Exhausted, she walked to the porch. The door had been broken down, so she cautiously went inside the dark house, which had been ransacked. Most of the furniture and contents had been destroyed.
The silence told her the house was empty as she searched throughout the rooms, ignoring the stench of the dead men lying on the floor. Broni stepped over a dead body, forcing herself to continue to the bedroom.
This room was in better shape than the others. Broni found a dresser with clothes, and picking out what she needed, she carried her pilfered items to the bathroom she had passed in the hall.
She turned on the water faucet, grateful when the water ran clear. Taking off her dirty clothes, she showered and then dressed in the clean clothes she had found.Her body was shivering; it would take several days on Earth for her to acclimate to being there again.
In another room, she searched the closet, finding a pair of oldboots that were too large. She stuffed a pair of socks inside then laced them up tightly. They didn’t feel comfortable, but they were much better than going barefoot. She had also found an old jacket in the closet. Wrinkling her nose at the stale odor, she put it on, too cold to be picky.
It was beginning to get dark and she wasn’t anxious to spend the night in a house with dead bodies, therefore she searched through the kitchen for what food she could find but found none.
Seeing a door that led to what she was sure was a basement, she opened it carefully, the pitch blackness she found intimidating. Turning back to the kitchen, she searched through several drawers before she found a tiny flashlight that had been overlooked by the looters. It was small, yet it did provide some light.
Once she’d crept down the stairs, she discovered the basement hadn’t been touched. The occupants of the home had been well prepared, too. Broni swallowed the lump in her throat, sad for the men who lay dead upstairs from trying to defend the home she was now looting herself.
She had never been in this part of time, and she had no idea what she would find when she left the old farmhouse.
Locating an old backpack, she stuffed items into it she thought would be useful. When it was full, she turned back to the steps, going back upstairs to the kitchen.
She stood there for several minutes, not knowing what to do or where to go next as she forced back tears. She was to blame for the predicament she was in; no one else. When she had been torn from her sisters in the Hallway of Death and come through the portal, she had been just as frightened. But she had survived those five years on Earth; she could do it again. There hadn’t been a war between the Drearien then, but she had survived, and she would survive now. However, she had to find a weapon to defend herself, or she wouldn’t last long.
Tying a dishcloth around her face to mute the scent, she searched through the remaining rooms.
She was turning away from the last bedroom where she had found the clothes when a strong feeling she didn’t question had her stepping back inside. She searched fruitlessly and was again about to leave the room when a sudden thought struck her. She immediately looked upwards toward the ceiling.
Broni scooted a chair over. Climbing on it, she nudged at a ceiling tile before removing it. She then stood on the tips of her toes, looking inside. Grasping the flashlight, she shined it inside the dark space and saw a large object wrapped in a blanket. She cautiously tugged it toward her, pulling it out of the ceiling, then jumped down from the chair, peeling back the blanket and gasping at what she’d uncovered.
The large sword she was staring at was her own. She was sure her mother or aunt was responsible for it being there and guiding her to its hiding space.
“Mom and Destiny, stop or you will anger Mother. I won’t have you punished because of mistakes I’ve made.”
Broni tied the sword around her waist, folding the blanket up to take with her. It wasn’t going to help much during the chill of the night in the open, but it was better than nothing.
Broni closed the door behind her as she left the house, pausing, trying to debate the best path to take. The cities wouldn’t be safe, so her only chance of survival would be to find survivors that had banded together; if there were any left. She wasn’t even sure how far in the future Mother had placed her.
Broni started walking into the woods, thinking it was safer to stay away from the roads. She walked for several miles before her aching feet forced her to stop, and she sat down, exhausted, next to a tree.
At least before on Earth she had been treated kindly by strangers offering her help and places to stay. Now there was nowhere to turn. For the first time in her life, she felt alone and frightened.
Broni wrapped the blanket around her and closed her eyes, wondering if it would have been smarter to have spent the night in the farmhouse basement, shuddering at the thought. Broni didn’t believe the dead bodies in the house would have been conducive to a good night’s sleep.
A rustle from the bushes had her sitting up against the tree as a large wolf appeared. The wolf padded forward and Broni trembled, her hand going for her sword.
The wolf stared at her with baleful eyes. Ignoring the sword, it disdainfully sat down by her side and laid his head on her lap. Broni carefully reached out, rubbing the fur on the wolf’s head before gliding her hand downward, stroking the silky fur. The wolf stretched out beside her, enjoying her petting him.
When she reached out to scratch his exposed belly, a strong wind blew, and Broni caught the faint scent of her aunt. The wolf’s mouth opened almost as if he was laughing.
Broni covered herself with the blanket, leaning back against the tree, while the wolf snuggled to her side, a buffer against the cold.
* * *
In the morning, Broni woke stiffly, rising herself to her feet slowly. She brushed her hair back, pulling it away from her face while the wolf sat watching her.
“Are you hungry?” Broni dug in her backpack, pulling out beef jerky and giving a piece to the wolf. When they finished, she divided a bottle of water between them. She then packed their trash back in her backpack before sliding the straps around her shoulders.
“What do you think?” Broni pointed to two different directions. “Which way should we go?”
She started to walk down the hill they were on, but the wolf grabbed the bottom of her shirt, tugging her in the other direction. It would be harder going uphill, however they wouldn’t be as out in the open as the path she’d chosen.